


I Wish We Met At A Different Time

by xactamundo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal, Angry Sex, Assassin Dean Winchester, Assassins, Blood, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cop Gabriel, Cuddling, Dead Body, Domestic, Drunken Confessions, I wouldn't really call the ending happy, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, Smut, Suicide, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, but blood, gosh golly gee, lazy dean, not doin his job right, not really gore, self-loathing dean Winchester, some of them are okay?, some of them really aren't?, talks of suicide, target castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xactamundo/pseuds/xactamundo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suppose if an assassin is going to show up, they may as well be cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Roommate

“I wish we met at a different time.” The man standing behind Castiel said. Cas glanced in a mirror to the left of him. A dirty blond man, maybe a few inches taller than him, stood less than a foot away from Cas’ back.

“Who sent you then?” Cas asked nonchalantly as the man pulled a gun out of an inner pocket in his jacket.

“That isn’t important.”

“Come on, dead man’s last request?”

“No chance.” The man cocked his gun, pressing it against the back of Cas’ head. 

Cas released a shuddering breath. 

“Sorry, man. I’ll make it quick.”

“My hero.” Cas muttered sarcastically.

He felt the gun shift against the back of his head just before hearing the click of a trigger. 

_The click of a trigger,_ Cas thought, _not the bang of a bullet._ Cas acted fast, whipping around and yanking the weapon out of the man’s hands and tossing it out of the open window to his right. He leapt at the assassin, tackling him to the ground and pinning him down. He was surprised when the man didn’t struggle. He must have been tilting his head, because the man spoke.

“You gonna kill me now?”

“I’m not a murderer.”

“But I tried to kill you,”

“So?”

Cas realized too late that he had loosened his grip on the man’s wrists. A knee to the stomach and painful twist of the wrist later, and he was lying on the ground beneath the assassin. 

Cas snorted. “So are going to try to kill me again?”

The man looked like he was thinking. “No.” He decided.

“No?” Cas asked incredulously. “Why?”

“Lucky for you, I don’t do my job often.”

“So what? You’re just going to leave?”

“No, you’re gonna run off and tell the cops.”

“I wouldn’t…”

“Don’t pull that shit with me, you would. Just consider me your murderous roommate.”

“I don’t want a roommate.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask then. I’m going to go get my gun out of your yard before someone finds it and calls the police.” The man sat back on Cas’ hips, releasing his hands. “You’ve got blood on your lips.”

He stood up and stretched, Cas’ eyes inadvertently wandering to the strip of his torso revealed when his shirt rode up. The man noticed and smirked fiendishly at Cas. He held out a hand, Cas taking a moment to realize he meant to help him up. Cas took it, the blonde easily pulling him to his feet. He strode towards the door, pausing and looking over his shoulder at Cas.

“Name’s Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel.” 

Dean snorted. “I know.” He walked out the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	2. New... Oddly Domestic Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd think having a murderous roommate would be weird.

Living with the man who tried to murder you isn’t as awkward as you’d think.

There is your fair share of death threats when you try to convince said murderer that you took out the trash last time when it was indeed them, but it was pretty normal. Dean and Castiel fell into a routine easily. Dean was the early riser of the two, getting up nearly an hour before Cas every day, so he made breakfast for the both of them, managing to slide it onto the kitchen table just as Cas was walking out of his bedroom. Dean had taken up residence in the guest room (“You really, really, really shouldn’t go in there, Cas”). They took turns taking out the trash (“Castiel James Novak, I know I took it out last week and if you try to convince me otherwise again, I will not hesitate to shoot you and collect the money you _know_ I would get for doing it”). Dean avoided talking to Cas about his work (“Cas, if I start talking then I’m not going to stop and to be honest you will either cry or vomit. I’m not kidding”). 

It could have been a lot weirder.

At least, that’s what Cas thought until Thursday, February 11th. 

He had just come home from the hospital, itching to shed his least favorite scrubs that had the tag that scratched at the back of his neck no matter what he did, when he saw something… less than pleasing in the living room.

“Dean?” Cas shouted.

“Cas!” Dean yelped back, shooting out of the bathroom in clothes that were covered in blood, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until seven!”

“Second Thursday of every month I’m on call, I thought you knew that?” Cas had gotten used to Dean knowing his schedule after a few days of living with him.

“Shit, it it the second Thursday, isn’t it?” Dean scratched at the back of his neck.

“Would you care to explain why there is a _dead body_ in my _living room?_ ” 

“Well… I killed someone… and the cops came sooner than I would’ve preferred…”

“So your solution is to bring the body back here?!”

“I panicked!”

“You couldn’t’ve left it in the kitchen, it’s going to stain the carpet!” Cas groaned.

Now Dean _knew_ Cas was pissed. He didn’t use triple contractions when he was in a good mood. 

“Cas, _please_ don’t do anything rash…”

“Oh, why would I do anything _rash_ when there’s a dead body in my living room? That’d just be ridiculous!” Cas’ voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

“I’ll get rid of it! I promise, I just have to _not_ be covered in blood,”

“Get the damn body off of the carpet,”

“Fine!” 

Dean dragged the lifeless corpse onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. Cas groaned loudly at the sizable blood stain in the middle of the living room.

“I’m going to get in the shower…” Dean said cautiously.

Cas growled something under his breath before digging around in the hall closet for something.

“What’re you looking for?” Dean asked curiously.

“Get in the shower, Dean!”

Dean rushed off into the bathroom. It took Cas a few more minutes before he tracked down a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He grabbed a couple of empty spray bottles from the floor of the closet that he kept around just in case before heading into the kitchen. He filled one of the bottles with the hydrogen peroxide and poured cold water into the other. 

He brought the bottles and a roll of paper towels with him into the living room, dropping to his knees next to the drying blood on the light carpet. He sighed to himself while spraying the stain with the water, letting it soak before blotting it with paper towels. Some of the blood came up while more of it stayed stubbornly stuck to the carpet fibers. Cas grabbed the peroxide bottle, spraying it on and waiting for a moment before resuming the blotting, pulling up the rest of the stain. Cas sat back on his heels, satisfied with his work. He retrieved an old plastic grocery bag from the kitchen and filled it with the water/blood/hydrogen peroxide –soaked paper towels and shoved it into the almost overflowing trash can. He returned to the living room, turning on the ceiling fan in an attempt to dry the carpet faster. 

Cas heard the shower turn off just as he collapsed on the couch, fumbling for the remote. Dean walked into the living room a few minutes later.

“Cas I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll clean it up as soon as I… get rid… of the… body.” Dean was standing in the hallway that branched off of the living room, staring at were the blood stain had been. “You cleaned it up.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

“You didn’t have to do that, it was my fault…”

“Just get the body out of my kitchen and call it even.”

Dean nodded and walked into the kitchen. Cas could hear his grunts moving towards the back door.

“I will put you with that body if it gets buried in my backyard!” Castiel shouted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!”

When Dean left, the house was silent. Cas couldn’t help but wonder what house Dean would’ve been dragging _his_ body out of if he had actually killed him. Cas shook the thought from him head, turning on the TV and losing himself in a game of _Jeopardy!_ Dean walked in on Cas screaming “Who is Fall Out Boy?!” at the TV. 

“Dead body is gone. Blood stain is gone. Police are off my trail – hell they were never on it. And I got my check.” Dean said, plopping onto the couch next to Cas. 

“You better have gotten a good payment for staining my carpet.”

“Of course I did, Princess.”

“You are mopping up the kitchen.”

“But there’s no blood…”

“There was a dead body and that is unsanitary!” Cas shouted over Dean’s protests.

“Fine.” Dean mumbled.

Cas shouted some more questions at the TV before Dean sat back down next to him. Cas noticed he was a bit closer than he was last time. 

_No,_ Castiel told himself, _I am not pining over a murderer._

“Want a beer?” Cas asked Dean.

“Sure.”

Cas got up and grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge. He handed one to Dean, keeping one for himself. They took turns grabbing beers, Dean drinking a fair amount more than Cas did. Dean was quite tipsy when Cas cut him off.

“But Caaaaaaas,” Dean whined when Cas pressed his back against the fridge, denying Dean access.

“Dean, I don’t feel like dealing with you on a daily basis as it is, I’m not dealing with you while you’re hung-over. Go to bed.”

Dean whined again and Cas grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him to his door.

“Wait, wait, wait. You can’t go in there.” Dean insisted, putting himself between Cas and the door.

“What is so secret about your room?” Cas groaned.

“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime. I can tell you another secret though,” 

“And what is that?” Cas sighed.

“C’mere.” Dean pulled Cas closer until he was right next to his ear, “I didn’t kill you ‘cause I thought you were cute and dating dead people is really hard.” Dean whispered. He released Cas and gently shoved him towards his own room. “You have to go to bed, too. You have work tomorrow.”

Cas nodded, still a little shocked by Dean’s proclamation. “Good night, Dean.”

“Night Cas!” Dean slipped into his room and Cas heard the unmistakable sound of Dean collapsing on the squeaky bed. Cas walked into his own room, carefully shutting the door behind him. 

Cas changed, or rather took off everything but his boxers, before climbing into bed. He laid, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

Yeah, living with a murderous roommate was a little weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	3. How to: Introduce Your Brother to Your Murderous Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel couldn’t possibly make this arrangement stranger… right? Please say right.

“My brother is coming over around six,” Castiel mentioned while Dean eyed their shopping list (yes they have a shopping list, and yes they take turns doing the grocery shopping).

“You have a brother?” Dean inquired curiously.

“Three, actually.”

Dean made an interested noise before grabbing his phone out of his back pocket where it had started ringing. He made an annoyed face at the caller ID before answering. Cas could faintly hear an angry voice rising from the phone. He cocked his head curiously when Dean’s face pinched into an exasperated expression. Dean noticed his inquisitive look and responded with a throat-slicing gesture that made Cas put his hands up in mock surrender and back out of the kitchen. Cas sat down on the couch and grabbed his laptop off of the coffee table to check his email. He was through reading and responding to a quarter of them before Dean threw himself on the couch next to Cas. He groaned exaggeratedly, sighing loudly until Cas shifted his attention to him.

“What is it, Dean?”

“My boss called.”

“That’s bad?”

“He’s pissed at me ‘cause I haven’t given him any proof about you being dead.”

“Why don’t you just kill me then?”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m flattered.”

Cas turned back to his computer screen, working out a reply to the email he had been reading when Dean came over.

“C’mon, Cas, don’t be like that,” 

“Be like what, exactly?”

“I don’t know, just like _that_.”

“I don’t understand what you mean by _that_ Dean.”

Dean responded with a drawn out groan.

“Do you mean to say, ‘Don’t pay attention to your work,’?”

“Yeah!”

“Dean, you don’t exactly have a fixed income, someone has to pay the bills.”

Dean huffed. “I’ve been busy…”

“With what?”

“I’m not going to tell you,”

“Alright.”

Cas continued typing, choosing to ignore Dean’s pouting. 

“Cas… I’m sorry.” Dean said when Cas finally closed his laptop.

“For not killing me, or are you actually going to do it now?” Cas asked with venom.

“Cas! If I actually wanted to kill you you’d’ve been dead ages ago!”

“Yeah, you thought I was ‘cute’ and decided not to.”

“Oh, God. I was drunk, I don’t know why you’re turning that on me,”

“It’s worth noting that you were going to, as well. Or did you conveniently forget that you actually did pull that trigger?”

“Cas…” Dean actually sounded… guilty?

“Oh, don’t ‘Cas’ me! If your gun hadn’t fucking jammed, then I would be dead!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to, you know!” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you nearly did! You can’t just expect me to act like nothing-”

Cas was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He exhaled sharply. 

“We will continue this conversation _later_.” Cas hissed before going to answer the door. 

“Cassie!” An excited voice shouted when the door opened.

“Hello, Gabriel,” Cas grunted when his brother wrapped his arms around him tightly. 

Dean cautiously peered into the foyer, eyes widening when he saw who was standing in the doorway. Dean pulled back into the living room as fast as possible, sagging against the wall.

_Of course that’s his brother,_ Dean thought to himself. His mind instinctively went to possible exit points and hiding places if things went South. _Window, back door, front door, garage, attic, my room, Cas’ room, linen closet, laundry room._ Dean repeated the list to himself like a mantra, calming himself. Just Officer Novak couldn’t cover all of those places at once. His aim wasn’t good enough to shoot him from very far away. Dean had a gun tucked in his waist band. He was fine. He could make it.

Dean forced himself to stand when he heard footsteps coming towards the living room. Cas was talking, but Dean wasn’t focusing on his words. His blood was pounding in his ears and his fingers were twitching with the urge to grab his gun and shoot anyone that came too close for his liking. Cas was leading Officer Novak his way.

“Gabriel, this is my roommate Dean. Dean, this is my brother Gabriel.” Cas said when the pair came into view. 

Gabriel froze, staring at Dean intently. “Wouldn’t happen to be Dean _Winchester_ , would he?” Gabriel asked, reaching for what was surely his gun.

_Too close, too close, too close,_ Dean’s mind was chanting as he slowly backed away. Officer Novak was pointing his gun at Dean now.

“Cassie, you’re living with an assassin.” Gabriel said cautiously.

“Yeah, I know. If you could not shoot him, that’d be great.” Cas replied bluntly. 

Gabriel and Dean both shot him a confused look. “Cassie, he’s a _murderer_ ,”

“Yeah, he is.”

“He could kill you,”

“He is way too attached to me to do that.” 

“Attached to you?”

“Yes, Gabriel.”

“What, are you two dating or something?”

Cas strode over to Dean, smirking at the bewildered look on Dean’s face. Before Cas could rethink his decision, he wrapped a hand around Dean’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Dean stood, frozen for a moment before his body got with the program and wound his arms around Cas’ waist, kissing back eagerly without trying to progress to anything further than Cas was willing to go. They pulled apart when Gabriel started making childish noised, groaning about how disgusting they were being. 

“Fine! FINE! I won’t shoot him if you _TONE DOWN THE FUCKING PDA_!” Gabriel shouted just before Cas backed out of the kiss, still keeping his hands wound around Dean’s neck and twisted in his hair.

“Gabriel and I are going out for dinner, would you like to come?” Cas asked Dean quietly while Gabriel faked retching noises.

“Nah, you two go ahead. I’ll go shopping while you’re out.” Dean replied, mentally protesting at the thought of ever untangling himself from Cas. 

Cas made the move to leave and Dean reluctantly let him, standing with his hands dumbly hanging by his sides when Cas stepped out of arm’s reach. Cas grabbed his still-gagging brother by the collar of his shirt and dragged him towards the front door, shouting “Make sure you bring the list with you this time!” over his shoulder just before shutting the front door.

Dean stood still for a moment, skin still burning where Cas had touched it, before forcing his legs to move to the kitchen and imploring his hands to grab the grocery list. He got into his car and pulled out of the drive way, praying that Gabriel wasn’t planning on staying.

He and Cas had a _lot_ to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you have any idea for where this should go because i have NO FUCKING IDEA! :D 
> 
> you can find my tumblr here: xactamundo.tumblr.com  
> if you have any suggestions that you don't want to leave in the comments then feel free to toss 'em in my ask box
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think and i will see you whenever i have the next chapter up! *nervous laughter*


	4. My Life as a Teenage Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cool motives don't mean it's not murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTORY TIME!!!!!! *confetti falls from ceiling* *champagne corks pop* *everyone stands around looking unimpressed while i dance around like it's the party of the century* 
> 
> *sigh* tough crowd. 
> 
> hope you enjoy, and i'll see you at the Dean Winches- *coughs wildly* the bottom! i'll see you at the bottom!

It was cold.

Well, it was nearly always cold at this time of the year, but it was really cold today. Dean’s hands were shoved in his pockets, his nose running and eyes watering as he ran against the wind. He hadn’t wanted to leave Sammy alone, but he couldn’t bring him into this part of town. He was too young and would probably get himself kidnapped or shot. 

Dean hated coming to this area, but it was the only place where they conveniently forgot about the child labor laws for fourteen year olds.

He was nearly back where he had told Sam to stay when he was grabbed by the back of his hoodie and dragged into a nearby alleyway. He immediately started swinging, throwing punches and kicks frantically, waiting for one of them to connect with flesh. 

“ _Relax_ kid. I jus’ wanted ta ask ya if you were interested in a certain… _job_ opportunity.” A raspy voice said behind him. 

His hoodie was released and he spun around, fist up, ready to start a fight.

“Well? You interested?” The raspy voice asked.

“What kind of job?” Dean asked, trying to force some venom into his words.

“You ever killed anyone?” 

 

_“You said you wouldn’t touch Sam!”_

_“I didn’t promise you nothin’, you ungrateful brat!”_

_“You could’ve killed him!”_

_“Maybe I will yet! Put that gun down, boy!”_

_BANG!_

_John crumpled to the ground, blood bubbling out of a wound in his chest. Dean exhaled shakily, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. He gathered up Sam’s unconscious form and carried him out of the house._

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve killed someone.” Dean answered.

“Well then, this’ll be right up your alley. You ever heard of an assassin?”

“What, like a contract killer?”

“Exactly like that. I can get ya a job killin’ people. Easy money and lots of it.” He surveyed Dean’s form, “I think you’d be good at it,”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I think. I know where you’ve been stayin’, go take care of your brother, I’ll send someone over tonight.” The man gave Dean a little shove towards the exit of the alley, “Now go on, git outta here.”

Dean nodded and backed out of the alleyway before turning to run back to Sam. 

[]

Dean didn’t feel guilty when he killed him.

Guilty didn’t begin to describe how Dean felt. 

His fingers were numb, still curled around the handle of the knife. His blood was rushing and he could hear it in his ears. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his system was still flooded with adrenaline. The man was crumpled in front of him, the bright red of the clean slice on his throat standing out against his pale skin. Dean shakily pulled out a cell phone. It didn’t have the ability to text or call or anything, but it could take a picture. A low quality picture, but a picture. Dean snapped a quick photo before shoving the phone back into his pocket and running. He trotted down the steps of the abandoned building while wiping the dark blood on the knife off on a rag before tossing the cloth on a random stair. He tucked the blade back into the backpack he had slung over one of his shoulders just before sprinting out of the building. 

He arrived at the warehouse some fifteen minutes later. The raspy voiced man – whom Dean now know was named Felix – was leaning against a pillar. Dean pulled out the phone and tossed it to him. Felix caught it easily, flipping it open and looking at the photo Dean had taken.

“Your photography skills are shit, kid,” Felix commented.

“I wasn’t going for flair, next time maybe,”

Felix made a noise of assent before slipping the phone into his bag. He beckoned Dean closer, reaching into his pocket. When Dean stood in front of him, he held out a gun. It was simple, clearly not new, but probably functioning. Dean took it, instinctively popping out the magazine to see that it was fully loaded. Felix gave an impressed look before handing over a box of ammo.

“That should keep you loaded for a few weeks. Don’t do anything stupid.” Felix said while Dean slipped the extra ammo into his bag and tucked the gun in the waist band of his jeans. “Git outta here, now. I got other things to do tonight.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll catch ya when I’ve got another job for ya.”

Dean waved before running out of the warehouse.

He just had to get back before Sammy woke up.

[]

Dean still couldn’t believe he was telling Cas all of this. Pouring his heart out like he was in some chick flick. 

“Why do you still do it then?” Cas asked.

“Why do _you_ always have to ask questions?”

“Are you going to answer?”

Dean sighed. “Well, Sam is headed to law school now. I have to pay for that, plus you can’t get many jobs with an eighth grade education. Easy, fast money. Lots of it, too.”

Cas made a pleased noise. “Heart wrenching backstory, still murder.”

Dean shoved Cas off of the couch, stalking off to his room while Cas laughed hysterically from his sprawled out position on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may have noticed there's an end chapter now! (13 for anyone too lazy to scroll up)  
> i had some extra time to plot it out, and although the number may change slightly, it'll be somewhere near 13 chapters.
> 
> anywhooooo
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think! *flies into the oblivion of the excel spreadsheet that is my story board (seriously it's a hot mess)*


	5. The Relationship Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone really like to talk about their feelings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter today guys! the next one is in progress and i'll have it up by tomorrow! see you at the Dean Winchester... bottom... same thing.

“Oh my God, I feel like a teenage girl.” Dean shoved his forehead into his palms.

“I saved your life, you can handle it.”

Dean groaned before responding to Cas’ questioning look with a nod. 

“Well, what do you think?” Cas prodded.

“What? About us dating? I don’t know, I guess I like you… like, like like you. Jesus fuck, I sound like a 12-year-old.”

“So… do you want to go on a date or something?”

“Yeah… yeah I do.” Dean paused, trying to gather his thoughts, “I just want to do this _right,_ Cas.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve never really dated anyone. It was always just… sex. Just sex. One night, maybe a few more afterwards and then cut ties. I don’t want to fuck this up. I’m useless at trying relationships that are more than just a one-night stand.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,”

“No, Cas. I’m a horrible person. I kill people I don’t know for money that I give to my little brother and he doesn’t even know where it comes from he just takes it and assumes that I have some steady, cookie cutter job. People have _families_ , they have _lives_ and I just end that cause the only person in this world I care about is my little brother. He’s the only reason I keep living; I don’t want to leave him alone. I’m selfish and I’m heartless and I’m fucking suicidal. You don’t even know how many times I’ve been ready to kill myself. I’m a fucking coward, though. Never did more then swallow a few too many pills. Didn’t even kill me, I woke up a few hours later puking my guts out. I’m the worst person you could ever have, Cas. I don’t know why I’m even wasting your time.” Dean broke off with a barely concealed sob. “I’m- I’m just gonna go. I’ve fucked up your life enough as it is.”

Dean moved to get up, but Cas was quicker. He stood in front of Dean, holding his shoulders and pressing his back into the chair. 

“Cas…”

“Dean Winchester, you are being ridiculous.”

“But, Cas…”

“Stop talking and kiss me.” Cas ordered. When Dean didn’t comply fast enough, Cas ducked down and pressed his lips against Dean’s. Dean took a moment before cautiously reciprocating. He felt Cas smiling against his mouth before he pulled back.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Cas asked.

“Oh, shit, what time is it?”

“3 pm.”

Dean swore loudly before sprinting into his room, emerging with a large duffle bag. He was quickly walking towards the door before Cas stepped in front of him, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. “Don’t be out too late,” he paused to kiss him again, “And don’t do anything stupid. I’m covering an emergency room shift tonight and I swear if you show up there I will snap your leg in half and make it look like an accident.”

“Of course, see you tonight.” Dean slipped past Cas and walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	6. Asking Out an Assassin. Surprisingly Undaunting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas can embarrass himself when he's drunk.

“Would you like to go get lunch?” Cas asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Dean replied, flicking through the contents of a manila folder that he had pulled out of his bag after his last job. 

“I mean in a date way, Dean.” 

Dean froze, slowly looking up. He beamed up at Castiel. “Yeah. Definitely. When? Like, now?”

“Yes, now. Hurry up and get dressed.”

Dean smiled again before abandoning the folder on the coffee table and rushing to his room. Cas himself had already gotten dressed. Dean emerged from his room moments later in a tight black t-shirt with a blue flannel thrown over his shoulders. He was in the process of buckling his belt when he stumbled into the living room. “Ready!” He yelped when he finally slipped the extra length of the belt into the loops of his jeans. Cas lead him out the door and to his car.

[]

Saying Cas had a few glasses of beer would be an understatement. By the time they paid the check, Cas was giggling like a seven-year-old and nearly fell over when he stood up. Dean confiscated his car keys and lead him out of the restaurant with a hand on the small of his back. He loaded him into the passenger’s seat before driving off.

“Deeeeeean,” Cas whined about two minutes into the twenty-minute drive back to the house.

“What, Cas?” Dean sighed.

“When we get back we should have seeeexxxxx,” He whispered. 

“Cas, you’re too drunk.”

“I am just drunk enough, thank you very much!” Cas said, folding his arms and pouting like a child. The car was quiet for a moment before Cas spoke again. “Dean. Dean, Dean, Deeeeean.”

“Yes, Cas?”

“Are you a top or bottom?”

“Cas, we can talk about this when you’re sober.”

“But Deeeeeean, just tell meeeeee,”

“I don’t know, Cas.”

“Oooooh. Well I normally top but I bottomed with this one guy and now I don’t know what I like more.”

Again a moment of silence.

“Dean, are you gay, or bi or somethin’,”

“Bi.”

“Oooooh. See, I think I’m pan but I always kinda lean towards the guys cause I dunno.”

They finally pulled into the driveway and got into the house.

“Deeeeean can we pleeeeeeeease have sex?” Cas whined.

“Just go to bed, Cas.”

“Are you gonna come with meeeee?”

“No, Cas. We aren’t having sex when you’re drunk.”

“No, no, no, no sex. Just sleep. With me. Not sex, though. Cuddles.”

“Fine.” 

Dean allowed Cas to drag him into his room and quietly stripped out of his jeans, tossing his flannel on the ground with his pants. When he turned towards Cas’ bed, Cas was climbing under the covers. Dean followed, laughing softly when Cas wound his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Cas was asleep within moments. Dean gently brushed his hair out of his face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before pulling the covers up further and falling asleep himself. 

[]

Dean got up before Cas as always, carefully unwinding himself from all of the limbs that had twisted around him while he was asleep. He padded into the kitchen and started making breakfast. While he waited for a pan to heat up, he popped into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Advil and filled a glass with water. He set both of the bedside table in Cas’ room before walking back out to the kitchen. 

By the time Cas walked into the kitchen, Dean had a plate piled with bacon and another with a sizeable stack of pancakes.

“Go sit down, it’ll be done in a minute.” Dean gestured to the table with the spatula he was holding, “And, hey, drink this.” He handed Cas a fresh glass of water before he walked off to sit at the kitchen table.

Five minutes later, Dean was balancing two plates with stacks of pancakes and bacon on his arms while holding syrup and butter in his hands. Cas raised an eyebrow at the sight.

“I waited tables at a Mexican restaurant at one point for some extra cash.” Dean explained, nodding his head to his left arm where the two plates were balanced. 

Dean set the plates on the table with the syrup and butter in the middle. “How’re you feeling?” He asked while he grabbed a knife and began smearing butter on his pancakes. 

“My head is pounding and I really want to vomit. Also, I’m sorry for what I said last night. I don’t have much filter when I’m drunk.”

“I don’t either, man. And it’s fine. I wasn’t exactly a gentleman the last time I was drunk with you, either.”

Cas laughed at the mention of that night while spreading butter on his own pancakes. Dean poured syrup on his stack and Cas followed suit before grabbing a piece of his bacon and taking a bite. Cas moaned at the taste and quickly devoured the whole pile Dean had put on his plate.

“There’s more in the kitchen,” Dean mentioned when Cas glanced up. 

Cas shook his head before starting on his pancakes. They ate in silence, the squeak of silverware on plates making Cas cringe. Once they finished, they sat in silence for a moment.

“So you’re a top, huh?” Dean asked.

Cas threw a syrup covered fork at him before stomping off to his room to lie down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dunno when i'll have the next chapter up, the rest of this week is a mess for me and i probably won't have a lot of time for writing. so stay tuned, i'll have it up as soon as i can, swearsies!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	7. Saving Your Assassin's Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One would think the assassin would be the one saving you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still debating naming this chapter 'saving your assassin's ass...ass...in' tbch
> 
> anywho, see ya at the Dean Winchester.

“Dean?” Cas called when he walked in. 

He groaned and pulled out his phone when there was no answer. He called Dean’s phone, listening carefully to the silent house to see if Dean had just fallen asleep in his room. He heard Dean’s phone behind his door and rolled his eyes. 

“Dean?” He shouted, banging on the door. 

The phone kept ringing and there wasn’t any characteristic groan that indicated Dean was asleep and had gotten woken up by all the noise. 

Something was obviously wrong. Cas pounded on the door until the phone stopped ringing. He thought about opening the door, trying to shove away the sound of Dean saying _”You shouldn’t go in there, Cas.”_ Cas gulped before placing his hand on the door knob and turning it. 

The light was off, the room illuminated by the orange light of the now-setting sun. The reddish light made the eerie contents of the bedroom seem even more sinister. A large collection of knives was strewn over the top of the dresser, some looking like an average pocket knife and others boasting painful looking curves. A mat was rolled over the rumpled sheets of the bed, covered in what looked like a dozen or more dissembled guns. Castiel’s eyes drifted to the wall around the window. He had to step a bit closer to see what was tacked up on the drywall. Photos of people – probably Dean’s targets – were pinned around a detailed map of the state. White thread – barely visible in the fading light – was wrapped around other pins that held up scraps of paper with date, locations, times, and names. A piece of lined loose leaf was taped on the nearest stretch of bare wall, covered with names and numbers – no, dollar amounts. _Hit list._ Cas’ brain helpfully supplied. He scanned the list. Most of the names had a red line through them, only a few at the bottom left intact along with one a few spaces from the top. His name. He gasped when he saw the number scrawled next to his name. 

“Someone paid five grand to kill me?” Cas snorted. He tried to ignore the little red question mark in front of his name. 

Cas shook his head, trying to focus himself on the task at hand. He found Dean’s phone easily, the screen flashing with notice of his missed call. Cas _knew_ something was wrong now. Dean didn’t leave his phone at home when he was out on a job. He would sooner forget to put on a shirt before he forgot his phone at home (yes, Cas had witnessed this, and no, he didn’t mind ~~at all~~ that much). He was just about to unlock Dean’s phone (Dean had scanned his thumbprint into the touch ID last week) when it started ringing. Cas jumped and thought for a moment before answering.

“Ah, there’s the boyfriend!” A voice said on the other end before Cas could say hello. “ _Oi! Winchester! Your boyfriend is home!_ You are the boyfriend, right?”

“I-I’m his roommate,” Castiel stuttered. 

“Oh, sweetheart, if he thinks you’re his boyfriend then you’re his boyfriend. Past that, your Dean is a bit, shall we say, tied up at the moment?”

“What did you do to him?” Cas growled, hoping he sounded more intimidating than he felt. 

“Your little assassin is fine, but I can’t promise for how long.”

“If you hurt him, I swear…”

“Funny, Dean was just saying the same thing. Relax, sweet cheeks. I just have one little… suggestion. Just something that may help you keep your assassin with as few nicks as possible, hm? How about you come find me with… say, five thousand dollars? And your little boyfriend will be as uninjured as I see fit for how much of my time you waste! Sound good?”

Castiel growled low in his throat. “Where,”

The man on the other side of the line rattled off an address on the other side of the town with a cheery “See you soon!” before he hung up. Cas scrubbed his hand over his face before he left Dean’s room and stalked into his room. He climbed onto his bed, standing on his toes to reach the very top of the wall, just where it met the ceiling. He shoved his hand into the small crack he had found and only partially repaired when he bought the house. He groped around for a moment before his fingers closed over a plastic notecard box. He tugged it out, twisting it so it would fit through the crack. He flipped open the dusty box, bringing out the stash of money he had been saving for an emergency.

No time like the present.

He counted out the money, sliding the thick stack into one of the pockets of his scrubs (his least favorite ones again, _again!_ ) and tossed the rest of it back into the box. He roughly shoved the box back into its hiding place in the wall before jumping off of the bed and stalking back into Dean's room. He slipped one of the pocket knives into his waistband before rushing out to his car. 

He was going to kick Dean’s ass after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bum bum bummmmmmmmmmmmm
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think and i'll see you in the next chapter!


	8. Saving Your Assassin's Ass Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a successful rescue mission is so hard these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here comes sammy!! ah, i hope i didn't miss any mistakes, if i did please point them out (and if anyone wants to beta hmu)
> 
> cya at the Dean Winchester!

Cas looked up at the imposing warehouse, rolling his shoulders before squaring them. He tugged out the knife he had taken from Dean’s room and flicking a switch that made the blade flip out of the handle. Cas took a deep breath before stalking up to the warehouse and pounding on what he assumed was the main door. The light over the door flipped off and Cas immediately tensed. What sounded like loads of locks sliding open came from behind the door and Cas flipped the blade of the knife back in, stowing it in his shoe. The metal pressed uncomfortably against the top of his foot, but he didn’t want the ones holding Dean to shoot either of them just because he had a knife. He opted for bracing himself for a punch instead. 

The metal door swung open and Cas squeezed his eyes shut quickly before the florescent lights inside the building could put all sorts of black spots in his vision. He opened his eyes to see a decidedly unintimidating looking man standing in the doorway. He was slouched a bit, his blond hair was sticking out at odd angles, looking like he had just pulled off a hat. 

“Well don’t jus’ stand there. C’mon in. Michael ‘ill wanna see ya.” The man said in a raspy voice.

 _Felix._ Cas decided. Felix was gesturing, urging Cas inside. The inside was very stereotypical-abandoned-warehouse. Cas thought about growling something about where Dean was, but thought better of it. He stayed quiet, following Felix to a side door in the warehouse. It led to a little office area with a plush looking couch and modern style lamps. There was a sleek desk near the back and behind it sat whom Cas assumed was Michael. Upon hearing the door bang open, he looked up, smiling wolfishly when he saw Cas standing behind Felix.

“Thank you, Felix. Go tend to our other guest if you wouldn’t mind.” Michael said in a voice that Cas knew meant that Felix didn’t have a choice in the matter. Felix nodded, holding the door open for Cas and dragging him in by the shoulder when he didn’t react. The door slammed behind Cas and he found his finger twitching with the need to grab the knife out of his shoe. 

“You seem… familiar somehow, but I can’t put my finger on it.” Michael said, drumming his fingers against his face in thought. “Please, sit. I just need to check something.”

“I think I’ll stand, thank you.” Cas said, sounding much more confident than he felt. 

Michael huffed before reaching into a drawer on his desk. Cas heard paper rustling before Michael made a pleased sound, dropping a file folder on the top of his desk. He flipped it open and Cas’ breath caught in his throat. A photo of his face was paper clipped to the inside of the folder along with a sizeable stack of papers. 

“Ah, Castiel James Novak. Someone really wants you dead, you know. That’s how Dean found you, isn’t it? He was _supposed_ to kill you, the useless bastard.” Michael mused.

“ **Don’t** talk about him like that.” Cas growled.

Michael laughed. “I suppose he got to you then? Oh well, that will make this that much fun. Felix?” 

The door popped open and Cas spun around to see Felix dragging a bloody and bruised Dean after him. 

“Dean?” Cas said before he could stop himself.

“Cas?” Dean groaned. His voice was scratchy but Cas had never been happier to hear it. 

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Cas,” 

A hand on Cas’ shoulder startled him and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled the knife out of his shoe and buried it deep into Michael’s right shoulder. Cas’ blood was rushing in his ears and barely heard Michael ordering Felix to knock him out. Cas only got in a sharp punch to Felix’s nose before the butt of a gun was smashed against his temple and everything went black.

[]

Sam didn’t go into police stations very often. Ever since he was a kid something had just bothered him about them, but here he was. The officer standing in front of him waved a hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Anybody home?”

Sam shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, what was I saying?”

“Your brother is missing.”

“Right, right.”

“Was there any sign of struggle at his place of residence?”

“Um, I found some blood and footprints in the mud outside of the windows of his house,”

The officer sighed. “Well kid, I’ve got to be honest with you. That isn’t a lot of evidence, not nearly enough to investigate, but I’ll tell you what.” He glanced at the clock. “My shift was over two minutes ago. You can show me what you’re talking about and we can see if we can’t figure out where your brother ran off to. Sound good?” Sam nodded. “What’s your brother’s name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

The office nearly choked on air. “Blond hair, green eyes? Really fucking annoying?”

“Yeah, that’d be him.”

The office swore under his breath before pulling out his phone. 

“Is something wrong, Officer?” Sam asked cautiously. He was immediately hushed while the cop put his phone up to his ear. He listened for a moment before swearing again and smacking his phone down on the desk in between him and Sam.

“Come on.” He said, standing up.

“Where are we going?”

“I know where your brother is now. Come. On.”

Sam followed Officer Novak out of the station and to what Sam assumed was his car. He got into the car, shouting something along the lines of “Hurry up, Sasquatch!” when Sam hesitated before getting into the passenger’s side. He drove away before Sam even had time to put on his seatbelt.

“Um, Officer Novak?” Sam asked nervously.

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel. Why exactly are you so eager to go get him now? ‘Cause I vaguely remember you calling him annoying a minute ago.”

“ _My_ little brother is with him.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ll let Dean explain that one, kiddo.”

Gabriel fiddled with a switch to turn on the lights and sirens on the car. They were hurtling around traffic that had pulled over to let them by and tearing through intersections to the far edge of town. Before Sam knew it, they were pulled up outside of an abandoned warehouse.

“Where exactly are we?” Sam asked quietly. 

“Just stick close to me, kid.” 

Gabriel got out of the car, gesturing for Sam to follow. He pulled his gun out, rushing up to the door and trying the handle before slamming his shoulder against it. Sam decided to not to mention that the door had been made of metal and that Gabriel’s shoulder was going to be killing him later. Sam followed close behind Gabriel as they entered the warehouse.

[]

Castiel’s head _hurt_.

He was fairly certain that some blood had dripped down his face. His head was pounding and his vision was blurry.

 _Blurry?_ Cas asked himself. He had learned something about this, hadn’t he? Head injuries and eye problems. When you get a brain injury, if it damages the fibers that carry signals from the eye to the brain it can make you need glasses.

 _Fuck, I’m going to need glasses_. Cas thought before realizing his surroundings had changed. The people that were walking – no, _fighting_ \- around him were no longer blurry. 

_Temporary vision problems,_ Cas corrected himself.

He started to glance around before immediately regretting the decision when his head gave a particularly hard pound. He squeezed his eyes shut, working on keeping his head still.

“Cas!” Dean was shouting. “Castiel James Novak, I swear if you pass out again… open your eyes, come on,” He gently coaxed. Cas slowly opened his eyes and noticed that Dean was tied to a chair a few feet away from him. Cas experimentally tried to lift his arms and move his legs only to find them tied down. He looked up at Dean with his brow furrowed. 

“It’s fine, Cas. It’s fine. You’re fine. We’re going to be okay,” Dean was mumbling, jerking his upper body to get himself closer to Cas. After a lot of jerking, his knees were against Cas’. “Cas? You still with me?”

“Yes,”

“Good. There’s a knife in your front pocket, I saw them put it there. I’m going to reach for it and cut you free, then you’re going to get me, okay?”

“Yes,”

Cas’ brain was apparently only capable of coming up with one syllable words. Dean was jerking around again. He somehow managed to maneuver himself to a position to be able to grab the pocket knife out of Cas’ pocket.

“Why… why would they give it back?” Cas mumbled, his words slurred almost beyond recognition.

“Felix still has a soft spot for me,” Dean said in between grunts. He was sawing through the ropes on Cas’ left wrist, nicking his hand and arms multiple times and mumbling apologies every time. By the time Dean had cut Cas’ arm free, a steady stream of blood was dripping from his arm to the floor and Cas was whimpering when the cool metal of the blade even gently grazed the marred flesh. Dean was still apologizing although the words seemed to have lost their meaning. Dean handed the knife to Castiel. Cas immediately cut his right hand free before slicing through the nylon ropes at his feet. He cut Dean’s hands and feet free, offering the knife to Dean. He waved it away, insisting that Cas ought to hold on to it.

“I can handle not having a weapon, Cas. Keep it.” 

They ran into the fight at the same time. One man was holding Sam’s arms back while another landed blow after blow on his face. Gabriel was on his knees in his own handcuffs with a gun pressed against his temple. Dean ran up on the man that was hitting Sam and elbowed him in the ear, giving Sam time to break free of the other man’s hold and take him down. Castiel snuck up behind the man with the gun to Gabe’s head and plunged the knife into his thigh after knocking his gun up enough that if he pulled the trigger it wouldn’t hurt Gabriel. A shot rang off and Cas tackled the attacker to the ground, pulling the knife out of the man thigh and holding it at his throat. 

“Gabriel, where are your keys?” Castiel growled.

Gabriel told him and Castiel awkwardly groped for it with his left hand, his right still holding the blade at the man’s throat. He managed to get Gabriel free, who immediately snapped the cuffs on the man Castiel was holding against the ground. Dean had wrapped the remnants of the nylon that held him and Cas around the wrists of the men he and Sam had caught. The four of them panted for a long moment, absolutely still until Cas moved. He slowly laid back on the concrete floor, groaning.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice full of concern.

“I probably have a concussion and my head feels like it’s going to explode.” Cas groaned. “I also think I twisted my ankle when I tackled that one.” Cas gestured to the man that was tugging against the handcuffs on his wrists. 

Dean made an upset noise before pulling himself off of the floor where he had been sitting and walking over to Cas. Cas smiled weakly at him. Dean pulled Cas’ arm around his neck, slipping his arms under his knees and shoulders. Cas yelped when he lifted him, arms tensing around Dean’s neck. Dean laughed quietly.

“Officer Novak, I trust you’ll be calling in your friends?” Dean asked, smiling when Cas burrowed his head in Dean’s neck. 

“Yeah, you have a way to get the two of you home?” 

“I’ll take Felix’s car.”

“Where is Felix?” Gabe asked, slipping into ‘cop mode’.

“No where that you’re going to find him.” Dean replied cockily.

“So you’re stealing a car, Mr. Winchester?”

“Felix will steal it back. Promise.”

Gabriel laughed a bit. “Take care of my baby brother, Winchester.” Gabriel said, earning a laugh from Cas and Dean. “I mean it!” Gabe growled.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing, Novak.” Dean replied, glancing between Sam and Gabe. Sam was zoned out on a flickering light hanging from the ceiling. “He was making heart eyes at you from the moment you two walked in, if not before.”

“If I may interject, Gabriel has been showing off for him from the moment I woke up.” Castiel added.

“Don’t waste each others’ time. He likes Italian food.” Dean said before walking off with Cas in his arms. 

Just before the door closed behind them, Gabe could be heard embarrassedly asking, “Hey, Sam, do you want to… I don’t know… go get some dinner some time?”

They both snickered. Dean carried Cas over to a car that Cas was guessing was Felix’s. Dean set him down on the hood and gently took his wrist in his hand. Dean made a face at the mess of blood.

“I can fix it up when we get back, no big deal.” Cas said nonchalantly. 

“It’s still bleeding, just… let me…” Dean was poised to rip a strip of fabric off of his shirt when Cas quickly stopped him.

“Just use mine,”

“But those are your scrubs…”

“Dean. I hate these scrubs with a passion. The tag always itches no matter what I do. _Please_ give me an excuse to get rid of them that doesn’t make me sound like a snob.”

Dean shook his head, but took the hem of Cas’ scrubs and ripped a strip of fabric away from the garment. He tightly wrapped the fabric around Cas’ still bleeding wrist and tied it off.

“Good?” Dean asked.

“Good.” Cas confirmed. Cas was about to slip off the hood of the car when Dean swept him back up. “Dean, I can walk, my ankle isn’t that bad, it just needs iced and maybe an ace bandage,” Cas protested as Dean deposited him in the passenger’s seat. Dean just kissed him before shutting the door and climbing into the driver’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! once more, if anyone wants to be my beta, i would really appreciate it cause i miss loads of mistakes and only catch them when i've already posted the chapter and then it's a hassle to fix and ugh. 
> 
> anywhooooo
> 
> leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	9. Explaining Why You Got Kidnapped Is Always Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming out over pasta. That sound like a sitcom that features only straight people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentines day! i give you................ A FILLER CHAPTER WITH NOTHING USEFUL!!!!!!
> 
> ahh, so the next chapter with probably be useless fluff but the one after........ buckle your seatbelts friends.
> 
> anywho, see you at the Dean Winchester!

Cas had fallen asleep in the car and nearly cried when he noticed that they weren’t at home. Dean had gently roused Cas when he pulled into the driveway of _Gabriel’s_ house.

“Why are we here?” Cas whined, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

“We shouldn’t go home for a little while, so I called your brother and he gave me directions to his house. Home isn’t safe at the moment, Cas.”

Cas groaned into his elbow. He knew Dean was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to enjoy staying with his brother. Castiel didn’t really register Dean lifting him out of the car and carrying him into Gabe’s house.

[]

Cas woke up at noon the next day. His head was pounding and when he sat up, he found a glass being forced into his hand and two little pills being dropped into the other. 

“Painkillers.” A voice that Cas couldn’t quite put his finger on explained.

Cas managed a small nod, tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing them down with a large gulp of water. Cas heard a door opening and peeled his eyes open to see Dean walking towards him. 

“Hey, Cas. You ready to go home?” Dean asked quietly.

“I thought it wasn’t safe?” Cas replied.

“It’s all good. The biggest threats are in police custody now and the rest I can take on easily.”

“Okay.” Cas mumbled, raking a hand through his matted raven hair.

Dean smiled, reaching out a hand to Cas and gently helping him off the bed. Cas cautiously tested his ankle and found the pain easily bearable. Dean led him into the living room, smiling warmly at a tall man with shaggy hair.

“Cas, this is my brother Sam. Sam, this is Castiel.” Dean introduced. Sam waved awkwardly at Cas. “We’re heading out now, so I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I can stop by around six?” Sam replied.

“That’ll work. See you, Sammy.” 

Dean pulled Cas after him, dragging him out the door and to Felix’s car. 

“He still doesn’t know, does he?” Cas asked when Dean began to pull out of the driveway.

“Nope.”

“You going to tell him tonight?”

“Probably not.”

“Dean…”

“Cas, it is my decision. I don’t want to tell him. End of story.” Dean realized the words came out harsher than he intended and quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry, that sounded mean. I just… can we talk about something else? Please?”

“Alright, why did you get kidnapped by what I’m assuming is your employer?” Dean sighed at the question. “You already got your veto, now explain.”

“Just… please don’t get mad.”

“Agreed.”

“You.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re mad that I didn’t kill you like I said I would. They have the one how paid to have you killed on their backs because you’re still alive so by extension they’re on _my_ back about you being alive. They just snapped I guess.” Dean paused. “My turn. How’d you get to the warehouse?”

“I got a call on your phone and some dude told me to bring money to that address.”

“How much?”

“Five grand.”

“And you _brought it?_ ”

“It’s not like I gave it to them.”

“Cas, you are so stupid. I swear you have a death wish.”

“Maybe I do, not letting my brother shoot the man that tried to kill me.” Cas replied grumpily.

“Oh, whatever. I’m gonna have to figure out who is still out of prison and kill them.” Dean growled.

“Dean, that’s not necessary.”

“Them messing with me, I can handle. If they had hurt you,” Dean made a pained sound, “I would never be able to forgive myself.”

Cas sighed. “You aren’t going alone, then. I can help.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The alternative is me locking you in the basement and not letting you out until your stamina had gone down so much that you can’t take them.” 

“Caaaaasss,” Dean whined.

“One or the other, Dean.”

Dean sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “You’ve got to let me train you first.” Dean decided.

“Deal.” Cas leaned over the console and pressed a kiss against Dean’s cheek.

[]

Cas was just finishing up with the pasta sauce when a knock on the door sounded through the house.

“I’ve got it!” Dean shouted. 

Cas smiled, tasting the sauce one more time before deciding that it was perfect. He tugged three bowls out of the cupboard over the sink and began scooping pasta into each one. He was spooning the sauce on top of them when Dean led Sam to the dining room and sat him down before walking to the kitchen and kissing Cas on the forehead when he swatted at the hand reaching for the cookies that were cooling on top of the stove. When Cas had insisted on making dinner, Dean had retaliated by mixing up cookie dough and putting it in the oven before going to clear off one of the two chairs at the dining room table that they never used. One was covered with junk mail that they hadn’t felt like taking to the recycling center and the other had become a dumping ground for coats and jackets. Dean had walked past the kitchen with a dozen or so coats thrown over his arms when Cas was throwing the uncooked pasta into a pot of boiling water. 

Dean grabbed two bowls of pasta, freezing when Cas yelped a “Wait!” and sprinkled parmesan cheese over top of the dishes. Dean grinned at him before Cas waved him towards the dining room. Cas turned and grabbed the last bowl and contorted his arms to accommodate space for three glasses of water. He followed Dean’s path to the dining room and set a glass of water in front of everyone before taking his seat and placing the last bowl of pasta in front of Dean.

Cas blushed vividly when Sam tasted the sauce and Dean began to rave about Cas’ recipe. Cas looked down at his bowl with an embarrassed smile and began eating.

Once everyone had finished, Dean got up and grabbed a few beers. Sam and Cas opened theirs immediately, but Dean paused, letting his hands fall back onto the table.

“Hey, Sammy? I’ve got to tell you something.” Dean mumbled. Sam and Cas froze, Sam looking concerned and Cas shooting Dean a face that said _”Oh, really?”_. “I don’t know how obvious I’ve been but… _I’mbisexualandCasandIaredatingandI’msorryIdidn’ttellyousooner._ ” Dean rushed out. 

“Cool.” Sam decided after a moment. “Cas seems pretty great, so as long as you’re happy, I’m fine. Cheers?” Sam asked, holding his beer in the air expectantly. 

Dean smiled, twisting the cap of his beer off and clinking it against Sam’s. “Cheers.” 

Cas followed suit and they all drank. 

“Oh, Dean?” Sam broke in. “I’m not straight, either. And I’m going on a date with Cas’ brother.”

“Nice.” Dean replied, taking a large gulp of his beer and rushing back to the kitchen to grab the cookies he had made.

Sam didn’t drink much, considering he had to drive back to his hotel, but by the time he left, Dean was pressing sloppy kisses against every piece of Cas he could reach and Cas was giggling like a schoolgirl at every one of them. 

Dean wasn’t sure why, but this was working out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh so i hope you enjoyed! once more, happy valentines day! 
> 
> *sings* let's be alone together 
> 
> srsly though i'm alone and kinda sad about it tbch
> 
> anywhooooo
> 
> leave me a comment telling me what you think and i will see you in a few days when i have the next chapter up!


	10. Partners in Crime in Every Sense of the Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are what you love, not who loves you," -Save Rock And Roll by Fall Out Boy ft. Elton John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter this time, don't get used to it

“Nice shot, Cas.” Dean complimented when Castiel sent a bullet directly into the head of the humanoid target that had been tacked up in the unused basement. Cas smiled widely at Dean’s praise, accepting the kiss on the cheek before taking aim for the chest and landing another spot-on shot into one of the orange dots that Dean had marked every vital organ with. Dean made another pleased noise before gently tugging at Cas’ arm and leading him up the stairs. Cas allowed himself to be pulled into Dean’s room, now warmly acquainted with the contents of the previously off-limits area. Dean had tacked up a different map on the wall next to the door (Castiel moaned about the holes in the walls they would have to fix if they ever wanted to sell the place) and was now standing in front of it, brows furrowed as he pressed another pushpin just adjacent to a dot that marked a tourist spot a few towns over. Dean walked across the room, pushing a hand against Cas’ chest until he sat down on the bed, and reached into a drawer on the bedside table. He pulled out a spool of thread and walked back to the map, tugging out a pushpin that Cas knew was marking the warehouse and tying the end of the thread around it before shoving it back in its place. 

“Okay.” Dean said after pointing around the map and mumbling to himself for a minute, “They haven’t split up – safety in numbers and all that – and they ran this way,” Dean looped the thread around a pushpin to the north of the warehouse, “to get away from the cops. They got pulled over at a speed trap here,” another loop of thread around a pin, “and slit the throat of the cop that caught ‘em.” A week ago, Cas may have flinched at Dean’s choice of words. A lot had changed in a week. “They went this way,” another pin, “to throw off the cops and stopped here,” another, “to rest and clean up.” Dean continued on with the story, occasionally pausing to look at a newspaper article pinned overtop of a location. 

By the time he stopped talking, a spider web of blue thread had been weaved over the map. Dean puffed out a breath and sat on the bed next to Cas. Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, tugging him closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Dean sighed and leaned into Cas for a moment before reluctantly pulling himself away. “We’ve got to go before they move again.” Dean mumbled, stalking over to the dresser where his collection of knives and guns had been neatly organized by Cas (Dean had been rambling on about piecing together the location of the remaining assassins and Cas had gotten bored). Dean started selectively tossing knives and guns into a duffle at the foot of the bed, Cas watching curiously. Dean hiked the bag over his shoulder, handing a knife and gun to Cas. 

“Ready?” Dean asked.

“Always.” Cas grabbed the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him in for a short kiss before Dean could stop him.

“You scared?” Dean asked when he pulled away, concern bleeding into his tone.

“No.” Cas decided. “I’m with you, why would I be scared?”

Dean sighed, muttering something about Cas being a romantic sap. Cas shook his head, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

[]

“Now, Winchester. Let’s solve this like rational people!” A dark haired man with an accent said. Cas and Dean had just caught the small group that they were chasing in the parking lot of a motel with a sign that boasted “Pay by the hour, no questions asked!”

“A wise man once said, “Shoot first, ask questions later,” and I’ve never been opposed to following such unarguable advice.” Dean spat back. 

“Fantastic idea!” Before anyone other than Accent-Man could realize what was happening, a bullet had imbedded itself into Dean’s left shoulder. 

Cas automatically registered that it wasn’t close enough to Dean’s heart to kill him immediately, but that didn’t mean he was too happy about his boyfriend getting shot.

 _When did I start thinking of him as my boyfriend?_ Cas thought as he fired a shot into the stomach of Accent-Man and sent another into the knee of an assassin woman that was running away from the fight. 

Dean and Cas worked well together. Before the cops had even started down the street, every person that had fought against them was dead. Cas was tugged towards the car and had barely even bucked the seat belt when Dean sped away from the parking lot. The pair rode in silence for a while, the car occupied with their heavy breathing.

“If you think I’m letting you do this,” Cas gestured wildly to the air around him, “on your own anymore, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that there’s no way you're going to go on jobs without me.”

Dean laughed a little. “Can I ask why?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, well then, when were you planning on fixing my shoulder?”

“Who said I was going to fix it?”

“Cas, please?”

“Pull over when you can, I stole some suturing equipment from the hospital yesterday.”

Dean nodded and Cas took his lack of reply as an invitation to turn on the radio. 

[]

They pulled over at another “Pay by the hour, no questions asked!” style motel when Dean was satisfied with their distance from the scene. The lady at the desk had a cigarette dangling from between her fingers and gave Dean and Cas a knowing smirk when they asked for a room. Dean had pulled a clean flannel over top of the blood soaked one before they got out of the car to hide the obvious bullet wound and, well, blood. Cas unlocked the door to their room and ushered Dean inside, pushing into the bathroom and sitting him down on the edge of the tub. Dean fidgeted with his thumb nail until Cas approached him with a pair of scissors. Dean jumped and fell backwards into the tub, yelping in both pain and surprise. 

“Was that really necessary, Dean?” Cas asked exasperatedly. 

“You _scared_ me,” Dean whined.

“You’re being worse than Gabriel. Get back up here.”

Dean whined again, but allowed Cas to pull him back up onto the tub edge.

“Are you particularly fond of any of the shirts you’re wearing at the moment?” Cas asked.

“No.” Dean mumbled. 

Cas made a pleased noise and started cutting away the fabric. He peeled the blood soaked cloth away from Dean’s shoulder before deciding to take the entirety of all the shirts off and chopping carelessly at the clothes. Dean’s torso was bare within seconds and Dean was pointedly staring at a spot on the wall over Cas’ shoulder. Cas smirked, pressing a kiss against Dean’s temple, taking the moment to glance at Dean’s back. The blood splattered across it and the circular abrasion relaxed him a bit. He wasn’t sure how kindly Dean would take to getting a bullet pulled from his shoulder. 

“Alright, so we have an exit wound which makes things a bit easier on me. I don’t have the tools to get an X-ray, I’m going to shine a flashlight in the wound and see if I can see any bits of bullet casing that got caught on the way out, okay?” Cas said.

“Yeah, I guess.” Dean murmured. 

“I’ve got to get the extra blood out first, so I would suggest leaning back a bit so we can catch most of the bloody water in the tub and _not_ on the motel floor.”

Cas grabbed a water bottle that Dean had stashed in the duffle bag and opened it, carefully pouring it over the bullet wound. Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth had become a barely visible line. Cas momentarily chastised himself for not grabbing any painkillers other than a few syringes worth of lidocaine. He didn’t know how long it would be until he would be stitching Dean’s shoulder and he didn’t want to waste any of the numbing medication. Cas settled for mumbling soothing things into Dean’s ear.

[]

Dean had passed out on the bed as soon as Cas had finished wrapping bandages around the stitches on his shoulder. There had been a few bits of metal embedded in Dean’s shoulder and he hadn’t enjoyed having tweezers in the bullet wound. The shot of lidocaine had taken even more convincing. Dean had nearly passed out when he spared a glance at the stitches while Cas wiped away some extra blood. 

Cas wasn’t too upset when Dean had fallen asleep immediately after he had finished. 

Cas wasn’t tired, so he cleaned. He placed the shirts that were soaked with Dean’s blood in a plastic grocery bag, tying it off to toss into a random dumpster somewhere. He ran the shower to wash the stubborn red swirls away and decided to get in when the water warmed up. There was a towel in the bag Dean had packed along with a few extra sets of clothes. 

They were all Dean’s clothes, of course.

Cas stepped into the shower when the water had reached an acceptable temperature. The warm spray relaxed muscles that he hadn’t realized were tense and rinsed away all the sweat and dust that had stuck to his skin. Cas was only mildly surprised when the water that hit his hands ran away pink even though he had definitely washed all of Dean’s blood off of them. 

He suddenly remembered someone running towards him with a gun. They had fired off all of their rounds and were going for close combat, but Cas had pulled his knife before they could smash the butt of their pistol against his head. The gun had instead collided with the back of Cas’ hand, tearing the flesh along his knuckles. 

Cas shook the scene from his head before his mind wandered to when he had slit the person’s throat. He gently wiped away the blood that had stuck to the skin around the wound and decided to wrap it up when he finished with his shower. He washed his hair one-handed after finding that soap stung the marred flesh on his hand. After a half-assed job of washing the rest of his body, he turned the water off. Cas took care to dry his injured knuckles before toweling off and tugging on the stack of Dean’s clothes. They were a bit big, but the jeans were broken in and the t-shirt was soft. To top it off, it all smelled like Dean. 

Cas wrapped his hand in a bit of gauze and taped it off before walking back into the room. It was noon and Dean was still out cold. Cas turned on the TV and laid on the bed next to Dean. He smiled down at his sleeping form and bent down to press a kiss against his forehead before propping himself up on the headboard and trying to find a channel that was semi-acceptable.

He could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have literally no knowledge of medical procedures, so if someone really gets shot, please don't follow the example of stitching someone with stolen medical supplies in a seedy motel bathroom. just call an ambulance.
> 
> my little disclaimer out of the way.........
> 
> ahhh i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think and as usual, i have no idea when the next chapter will be up.
> 
> i'll see you whenever i get it up!


	11. How Does One Return to Normal After This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answer: they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lily gets a chapter up in a timely fashion?
> 
> *insert picture of the dude from ancient aliens*  
> ALIENS

Cas was running.

This wasn’t really abnormal anymore. He and Dean ran away from a lot of things, but something was different this time. 

Cas was alone.

Dean was almost certainly dead.

They had been hunting down an old man who had apparently pissed someone off enough to want him dead. It was supposed to be quick and easy, in and out, but the old bastard had a gun and a halfway decent aim. Dean went down just before Cas landed a shot in the knee of the man. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, taking aim for the man’s head. Cas risked a glance downwards and inhaled sharply. He pulled the trigger, firing a shot between the man’s eyes and kneeled down at Dean’s side. He was about to go through all of Dean’s vitals before he heard the sirens of police cars nearing the house. 

“Cas,” Dean rasped weakly.

“Dean! Dean, you’re going to be fine, come on let’s get you out of here before the cops come and…”

“Cas, no. Don’t get yourself caught for me. I’m already gone, anyway. You…” Dean broke off into a coughing fit, “You know I’m going to die. Get out of here.”

“No, no, no. Dean, no. I’m not leaving you.”

“Cas, go.” 

“But, Dean.”

“Cas!”

“Dean. Dean, I love you.” Cas didn’t realize what he was mindlessly babbling until the words had already left his mouth. “I love you so much, please don’t make me leave.”

“Castiel James Novak. Get out of this house now before those cops find you.”

“But Dean,”

“Cas. Please.”

Cas tried to say no again, but Dean pulled him down into a kiss. 

_Last kiss._ Castiel’s mind quickly suggested.

“Castiel. I love you, now just let me go. Alright?”

“Dean, I can’t,”

“Castiel. Now. Go.”

Cas sobbed quietly, but the cops were kicking at the door and Dean was pushing him away as hard as he could. Cas forced himself onto his feet. He ignored the weak feeling in his knees and ran up the stairs in the old man’s house. He found a bedroom with a window that looked over the back yard and roughly shoved it open, carelessly kicking the screen out of the window. He tested his weight on the trellis that was bolted to this part of the house and stepped out onto it. Cas quickly climbed down the trellis and bolted from the house when his feet hit the grass.

Tears were running down his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He focused on his shoes slapping down on the pavement, bringing himself towards the city. Towards home.

He couldn’t help but feeling that he was running away from his home as well.

He was running away from Dean, after all.

[]

Cas locked himself in the house for the rest of the night. He didn’t turn on the TV, sure that he would break down if he saw the reports on Dean. He turned off his phone after the twelfth ignored call from Gabriel and fifth from Sam. What was he supposed to do? Castiel couldn’t imagine going back to normal after this. He couldn’t go back to the hospital, not if he couldn’t come home to Dean at the end of the day, but he couldn’t just not work. He needed money unless he died.

 _Not a bad idea,_ Cas thought. 

[]

“Excuse me, Officer?” Castiel asked politely when he reached the front desk at the police station.

“Yes?” The man asked in a bored tone.

“I’d like to confess to a crime.” The words sounded calm coming from Cas’ mouth.

“What’d you do?” He sighed.

“I’ve murdered seven people.” 

The man choked on the air. “Have you now?”

Cas nodded slowly and listed off every person he had helped Dean kill. He made sure to add details of how they died that weren’t released to the news, nearly laughing as the officer’s eyes got bigger and bigger.

When they didn’t move to arrest him fast enough, Cas threw a punch at the nearest officer. He was tackled to the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back.

 _I’d have to walk into the police station and list off every murder I’ve ever committed for the cops to catch me, Cas. Don’t you worry your pretty little head._ Dean’s voice echoed in Cas’ head.

Cas smiled at the memory as the officers wrenched him off of the floor and dragged him to a holding cell.

He was right about that one.

[]

Everyone in the state prison knew not to mess with Novak. He was a murderer, killed people for money and didn’t feel bad about it. He started fights with anyone that tried to call him anything other than his last name, breaking the nose of the last guy that tried to stumble through “Castiel.” What kind of a name was that, anyway? He didn’t take visitors, ignoring his lawyer and his brother when they came. He didn’t get any mail. He didn’t even have a cellmate. The warden had decided he was too dangerous for any unsupervised contact with other prisoners. 

Castiel didn’t mind his reputation. Enjoyed it even. Gabriel had stopped trying to visit him when Castiel threw a punch to the underside of his jaw. Castiel was content with his job in the library earning him commissary that he didn’t ever find a need to spend and his bare cell, save for a book or two occasionally sitting on top of his desk. When he went six months without starting a fight, the warden cautiously assigned him a cell mate. When the prison was overpopulated, he was suggested for a move to a lower security prison. Castiel got in good with the guards there, even made some friends with the other prisoners. Things were about as alright as they could be in prison. 

That was until Castiel received a letter.

Letters were fine and all, but this one was different. There was no return address and Castiel could’ve _sworn_ he recognized that handwriting. 

_You didn’t think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?_ Was written in Dean’s painfully familiar scrawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bum bum buuuuuuuuuum! 
> 
> i hate reading cliffhangers but boy do i love writing em! 
> 
> i'll try to get the next chapter up soon
> 
> anywhooooooooo
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	12. Low-Security Prison Was Not the Best Place for Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brace yourself for the smut

Castiel had been expecting the break in. Break out? He wasn’t sure, but Dean broke in to the prison and broke Castiel out. 

When Dean peeped his head around the partition between Castiel’s cell and the ones on either side of him, Castiel wasn’t sure whether to punch him or kiss him. Castiel’s cell mate (Adam something-or-other. Just a kid, bless his heart) yelped loudly.

“Th-that’s Dean Win-Winchester.” Adam stuttered.

“Amazing observation Adam.” Castiel replied sarcastically, flipping to the next page of his book.

“He’s a murderer!” Adam shouted.

“So am I, is that suddenly a problem?” Castiel’s voice was monotone.

“He’s not _in_ this prison!”

“He’s clearly in it right now.”

“Um, Cas?” Dean broke in.

“Mm?” Castiel answered.

“We’ve got to go. Like, now.”

“ _Go?!_ ” Adam shrieked.

Dean finally walked into the cell. He pulled Castiel’s book out of his hand and smacked it down onto the bed. Castiel regarded him coolly, causing Dean to groan and grab the back of his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When he finally pulled back, Castiel smirked.

“That’s more like it.” Castiel decided.

He swung his legs off of the bed, allowing Dean to pull him through the prison. 

[]

They had been driving for nearly twelve hours straight before Dean decided it was okay to stop. He pulled off the deserted highway and took them down an abandoned looking country road. Dean grabbed a duffle bag out of the trunk and led Castiel to a rundown, ramshackle cabin. Dean dropped the bag next to the door and walked to the kitchen. The whole cabin was one room, save for the bathroom. It reminded Castiel of the motel rooms that he and Dean had occupied when they ran away from the house to avoid the cops. Dean was grabbing a beer out of a mini-fridge that was balanced on a dirt and dust caked countertop. Castiel was amazed the place even had power.

“Beer?” Dean asked.

“No.” Castiel replied. Dean winced at the cold tone in his voice.

“Cas, are you mad at me?”

Castiel gave him an incredulous look.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Castiel stayed silent.

“C’mon Cas, what do you want me to do? I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me why you’re upset.”

Dean was standing in front of Castiel now. Castiel spared him a little smirk before grabbing the front of his shirt and spinning them around, pushing Dean back until he was pressed against the wall. He pressed forward, forcing Dean into a rough kiss. Cas licked along the seam that was Dean’s lips, pressing his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Cas curiously pressed a leg between Dean’s thighs. Dean broke away from the kiss and moaned when Cas nudged his steadily growing erection. 

“Dean, have you thought on if you want to top or bottom yet?” Castiel asked, moving his leg away when Dean tried to rut up against it.

Dean whined. “I don’t know.”

“Bottom it is.” Cas decided. “There wouldn’t happen to be any lube lying about, would there?”

“Second drawer down in the night stand on the left.” Dean answered promptly.

Cas smiled fiendishly, tugging Dean over to the bed. He pushed him down onto it with a short order of “clothes off, hands and knees.” Cas found the lube exactly where Dean said it would be and turned to find a now very naked Dean on the bed. Cas pulled Dean’s cheeks apart, smirking when Dean minutely arched his back. 

“Have you been fucked before, Dean?” Cas asked.

“N-no,” Dean stumbled over his words. 

Cas made an unidentifiable noise. “Well, this will burn a bit. It will fade faster if you relax.”

Dean hated how formal Cas was being with this. “Okay, fine, just _do it._ ” Dean hissed out through his teeth.

Cas coated his fingers in a generous amount of lube and gently dragged a finger along Dean’s rim. He pushed in slowly, waiting for Dean to relax before pushing in further. Cas continued on with stretching, eventually adding a second finger. Cas curiously curled his fingers, laughing lightly when Dean cried out at the gentle press on his prostate. Cas added a third finger after a few minutes. Dean was positively whimpering now. 

“Caaaaaaaassssss,” Dean whined.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Pleeeeeeeaaase just fuck me already,”

“Hm. Well only because you asked nicely.” 

Cas pulled his fingers out, snickering silently at Dean’s little whine. Cas shucked his pants off, throwing them and not caring about where they landed. He quickly slicked his cock up with lube, gently nudging against Dean’s hole. Dean pressed back eagerly, sinking down onto his elbows to give Cas better access. Cas began to push in slowly, pausing every so often to allow Dean time to adjust. Both he and Dean were breathing heavily by the time Cas was fully sheathed. Dean moaned loudly when Cas bottomed out.

“You doing okay?” Cas asked gently.

“Just _move._ ” Dean groaned.

Cas pulled nearly all the way out before quickly slamming back in. Dean yelped in surprise as Cas set a fast pace. Dean’s surprised noises rapidly morphed into moans, especially when Cas changed his angle to hit Dean’s prostate on nearly every thrust.

“You just leave me alone like that?” Cas growled. “547 days, Dean.” Cas punctuated the sentence with a particularly rough thrust. “547 days I thought you were dead.”

“I didn’t want to worry you!” Dean yelped.

“So your solution was to act like you were dead?”

“Cas, I’m sorry,”

“You better be.” 

Cas ended the conversation when he made a grab for Dean’s neglected erection. Dean moaned loudly, torn between bucking into Cas’ hand or pushing himself back on his dick. Cas roughly jerked his hand around Dean’s cock a total of five times before Dean came with a loud shout of Cas’ name. Cas moved both of his hands to grip Dean’s hip, barreling towards his orgasm. He came deep inside Dean, the spent man beneath him offering no more than a groan in response. 

Cas carefully pulled out, Dean whining at the loss. Cas made a move to go get something to… you know… clean up, but Dean grabbed his wrist and gave him a pleading look. Cas allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed, Dean nestling into his side. They laid like that for a moment before Dean broke the silence.

“Sorry I acted like I was dead,” Dean mumbled into Cas’ side.

“I know.” Cas replied, gently pulling his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“I love you.” 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALWAYS USE A CONDOM WHEN YOU AREN'T TESTED
> 
> this was my first time writing like actual smut so mega thanks to Luke for telling me it was good even though he was probably exaggerating 
> 
> btw, if anyone is interested in beta-ing for me, hmu cause i hate proofreading
> 
> there is only one chapter coming after this, so i'll see you when that's up!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	13. The Couple That Kills Together, Dies Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could this be the beginning of the end? Or could it be the author trying to make this chapter sound much more carefully constructed than it is? Perhaps both?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well guys, here's the last chapter
> 
> on a lighter note, i may just suck dick for a beta.
> 
> or not. 
> 
> just if you're into that
> 
> also, that major character death, if you're not looking for that I suggest you back out now. 
> 
> still with me? awesome. 
> 
> see you at the Dean Winchester

“I told you they were going to catch up with us.” Castiel mumbled as Dean frantically searched every wall in the motel room for some kind of exit. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I should’ve listened to you.” Dean sank to the ground, head in his hands. 

“That front desk boy clearly recognized us.”

“Cas we’re going to jail and we’re going to get the death penalty. We’re fucked. We’re royally fucked.”

“You said the death penalty?”

“Definitely.”

“Well… no that’s a horrible idea.” Cas chastised himself.

“What?”

“If we’re going to die anyway, why don’t we make it on our own terms?”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Suicide. Yes.”

“That’s… actually not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“How about this? When they finally get that door open we can both put a bullet in our heads?”

“Yeah. Yeah that’ll work.”

Cas slid off the bed and kneeled next to Dean. He pulled him in for a kiss, tugging his gun out of the waistband of his jeans. The wood of the door was splintering now. Cas and Dean had stolen every key that could open the door from the front desk, so the cops had no choice but to break the door down. Cas cocked his gun and heard Dean do the same.

“Try to actually kill me this time.” Cas mumbled against Dean’s lips.

“Gotcha.”

“I love you, Dean Winchester.”

“And I love you, Castiel Novak.” 

Cas felt the barrel of Dean’s gun press under his chin and he followed suit. He heard the door break open and pulled the trigger. The moment he did, he felt a blinding pain as the bullet traveled through the bottom of his jaw, his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and finally stopped in his brain. He was falling and heard his brother shouting. Gabriel had apparently been with the squad that had been breaking down the door.

“Cassie! You fucking idiot, suicide? God dammit, don’t you fucking die, now!” Gabriel yelled, but Cas was already gone. His organs were giving up, his systems were shutting down, the pain from the bullet wound wasn’t even there anymore. His vision went black and Gabriel’s voice was fading. A few moments later, and Castiel was blissfully gone. 

Dean followed a second later, the medic pronouncing him dead. 

Gabriel held back his tears. He stalked out of the motel room, plopping down in his cruiser. He pulled his cell phone out and dialed Sam.

“Heya, Gabe.” Sam answered cheerily.

“Hi, Sam.” Gabe answered weakly.

“What’s wrong?” All the playfulness drained out of Sam’s voice.

“Well, we found Dean and Castiel,”

“And?”

“They…” Gabriel choked on the lump in his throat, “They killed themselves. They’re dead.”

[]

_”The pair killed themselves on March 13, 2015, shooting each other before the police force could arrest them.”_

“Why’re we watching this again?” Gabriel groaned.

“Kaitlyn is doing a repot on them. Quit complaining.” Sam replied.

“Kaitlyn can watch it in her room.”

“She has stuff that’s actually entertaining in her room.”

Gabriel and Sam had gotten married on June 26, 2015. They had rushed to the courthouse the moment gay marriage had been made legal and been married wearing their pajamas. They adopted Kaitlynn a few days before Christmas, finally getting the necessary documents signed through. 

“Kaitlyn, why did you choose these two again?” Gabriel called to the living room from his spot on the counter in the kitchen.

“There are a lot of resources on them, I figure it would be easy.” Kaitlyn yelled back, looking up from her notebook. “Plus you’re directly related to them, it will make it interesting.”

“If you need any help, let us know,” Sam shouted, flicking pasta sauce in Gabriel’s hair. 

“Actually,” Kaitlyn appeared on the opposite side of the kitchen island, “I was hoping you’d be able to provide some insight that isn’t the BS the media puts out.”

“Language!” Sam said over his shoulder. 

Gabriel slipped off the counter and walked over the look at what Kaitlyn had written so far. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off.

“Keep it PG-13, Gabe.”

Gabe huffed before he began to speak. “Dean was an assassin who was sent to kill Castiel. For whatever reason, he didn’t and began to live with Castiel. Dean got kidnapped by his… ‘employer’ and Castiel went to save him but got caught himself, so Sam and I went to help. Once they were both healed up, they tracked down the remnants of the assassin group. The ones not in prison, that is.” 

Sam kept cooking while Gabriel continued to talk to Kaitlyn. He couldn’t help but think that if Dean hadn’t tried to kill Castiel, he probably would never had met Gabriel. If his brother hadn’t killed himself with Castiel. He and Gabriel may not have stayed together to comfort each other. If it weren’t for Dean, he would be alone. He wouldn’t have graduated law school. He wouldn’t have this fantastic life he had made with Gabriel. 

Wherever Dean was, Sam hoped he was still with Castiel. That he was _happy_. 

And if Sam was going to Hell for hoping that a pair of murderers were happy, than so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH WHY DID I CHOOSE TO END IT HERE WHAT THE FUCK LILY FUCK
> 
> *glances in your direction* oh hello i didn't see you there. 
> 
> i'm still in great need of a beta, we can even be friends if you'd like.
> 
> or not
> 
> i'm not picky
> 
> my tumblr is: xactamundo.tumblr.com
> 
> if you have any thoughts that you don't want to put in the comment, feel free to throw them into my ask box!
> 
> self advertising aside.............
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! leave me a comment telling me what you think and keep an eye on my page if you like my writing style! (i'm not sure why you would but whatever floats your goat i guess)
> 
> i love y'all and i'll see you in the next fic!


End file.
